Holland Boo Hoo

[What? No winnies?]

Yes, the mood was glum after last night's World Cup finale, where after playing it out to 15-15 extended play, Holland lost 1:0.

To top it off, this morning, while Mommy was upstairs stuffing the sofa cover into the wash (minor chocolate emergency during excited game watching), Emily was brattily ripping up the cushion stuffing downstairs.

!!!Daddy LOVES his sofa!!!

Mommy thinks grabbing the Boo and running away from home is a viable option. Bumily's not worried. She's already checked out new parent candidates.

Super Puppy Super Busy

Bunny's family in Maryland sent her a fluffy blue blankie. Now, Emily can be a superhero FRAPer, right out of the bath.

[Hi Gramma!]

Emily still has time to do evil, like grab the bag of cotton wipes that Mommy uses to remove her heavy duty sunscreen, tear up the bag, and nest on the rest.
[All your wipes are belongs to me]

Oh, Go Jump In the Lake

Holland thinks it's Spring, and so does Mommy and the Bumster.
After teasing Timmy and the MinPin, H. and Emily decide it's a nice day for a free romp, without the leash. Remember the island?

While Mommy is busy picking up pieces of broken glass (%&@!!!), Emily sees DUCKS! shoots after them without warning, and jumps right into the water, and swims across to the other side.

Emily says: but that's why they call it DOGGY PADDLE, Mommy!

[I get to roll on Daddy's side of the sofa now?]

H. has to confess that only 10 minutes before this happened, she'd told Emily that little doggies wouldn't be getting any swimming lessons, as Mommy's heart just couldn't handle it.

---

In less exciting news, last night, Emily had a huge chunk of broken branch stuck in the back of her teeth, and had to be rushed to the emergency night vet in Rijnsburg.

Oi, Cujo Hours.

News Flash!

Emily ate H.'s earplugs again! (remember the last time?)
We're still waiting for the plug shaped poo.

Favorite Sushi: Toilet Roll

Pretending to bark at blackbirds, Emily tricked me by turning around and running off with fallen toilet roll (used for picking up her poo in the patio).

[Nyam Nyam Nyam! My Domain!]

Bad Bacon

As we'd run out of chicken breast for breakfast, H. fried up some Dutch bacon (spek) to mix in with her kibble. (We found that Emily really likes meat grease with her Orijen, but we have to watch it, and only use the stuff without any spices)

Lured out of playing with her Kong, Emily ate a piece of bacon, and 5 minutes later, promptly threw up. Three times.

No more bacon for the dog. BOO.

Then again, Emily's developed a bad habit of jumping on the coffee table and stealing a slurp out of our drinks before we realize what's up. Coffee, Lipton Green Tea Ice, orange juice. WEIRD DOG.

Heat Wave Strikes Europe

or so I hear. Emily and I are chilling in our living room. She's been pretty barky lately, especially late at night when she doesn't want to go to bed and is wondering why Mommy and Daddy think 1-2 am is sleepy time.

[Seriously, inquiring puppy minds want to know]

Emily's recovering nicely from her sick-time. Still, her nose is a little pinkish, instead of full black, so I let her hang out on the patio.

[Emily Puppy, Spy Dog]

[Grass, you can't let your guard down on them for a second.]

On the gardening front, our rose 'experiments' are coming along nicely. It's been 5 weeks since we planted the cuttings. At 6-8 weeks, we'll move them to roomier pots.
[Snipped and potted, June 28, 2009]
[See? New shoots]

Emily's climbing on my lap -- No! -- on the coffee table -- No! -- on the sofa -- No! -- to get a sip of my mocha cappucino. No, puppy!

More pigging

While I was upstairs for an hour, Emily jumped up on the coffee table to drag down her loot, which in this case was a bag of stroopwafels (Dutch flat treacle cookies), and ate it up.

*scowly face Mommy*

At least there were only 2 left in the bag. And nothing bad for dogs. Just not good and probably an additional 70% of her total daily calorie intake on top of everything else. She got drowsy and slept off a lot of that sugar and butter with food coma.

Then ate her dinner as if nothing happened.

Puppy Cuts in Action

I could write about how, in the 10 minutes H. was getting ready to meet up with M., Emily went digging in the ivy, came in with an ant sucking on her eyeball, and H. freaked out and waved muddy doggy around, trying to pull the varmint off while Emily fought for dear life because no one touches the face, NO ONE. (I got the ant off, no big)

But hey, life as usual.

(below: Emily's fatal home-shave puppy cut, 1 week after)

[Emily, Spy Pup]

[In Daddy's Clutches]

[How, if I leave a bag open for a minute, Emily will curl up in it.]

bye bye~

Teeth Files

H. is trying to fix up chapter 5 (more humor, less punishment), and Emily is scurrying to the bathroom every 10 minutes to fetch a new nail-file to chew up. The kind made of sand paper and looks like popsicle sticks.

[Who me?]

I tell her she's filing her teeth down, but nothing doing. She's on her third already. Now she's into the box of waxing strips. Must take that away.

We're off to the vet tonight to see about that tick in her chest that's not the heart.

[No vet! No vet, Mommy!]

Emily Puppy has been busy

[Happy things first]
Emily the super busy puppy's been

... picking up slack for Mommy.

Mostly she's been barking. This is what she looks like when she does that:

[I call her Ol' UnderBite Em]

Mommy's always staring at the evil flat thingy -- with squiggly things on it. So Emily wanted to do it too. It didn't taste so good.

[Whatever. It couldn't have been that bad.]

H: [Emily pulled 6 keys off my computer and ate two. We now have replaced "I" and "9" with "Alt Gr" and some key with a weird picture on it. I'm running out of useless keys fast]

She also ran into our bedroom and ate my earplugs. I know because they were gone from the bedside table. Also, two nights later, I found them in her poo.

H. has gotten a lot better at stuffing the Kong. 'Cause Emily can't get her goodies out. Sometimes she barks at it:

[Then she just whines at the food to come out]

She also tore a hole in her new beddy, and is bent on spilling its innards around the house. But they're okay.

[Still a cutey. But kind of hairy.]

[I can see you right there, Daddy!]

xxx

Some of Emily's misdeeds are rated R to NC-17 that they never make it on the blog. You'd never guess, to see such a cute, innocent-face puppy.

She likes sneaking into the bathroom. The toilet brush is her buddy. But today, she was ripping up a package of my [bleep]s, and the adhesive part got stuck on her paw. She stomped around with it, and threw a right fuss when I tried to tug it off.

ETA. Ooops, she snuck out into the hall and did it again. 10 sloppy puppy kisses if you guess what she played with.

Third Time's the Charm

Emily's test driving her beddy for the third time (after peeing in it twice yesterday). I stuffed it in her crate to see if she won't wet it if it's the bed.

[Froggy had it coming. He looked at me funny, Mommy]

[ETA] Emily peed on her new fluffy bed for the THIRD time, which was in her crate this time. And 5 minutes after refusing to pee when I took her outside.

Oi oi. *mommy headaches*

Bed Hunter

The great hunting dogs of yore have brought down mammoths and tigers. Emily attacks her new beddy:



What you don't see here: 10 minutes later, she christened it with pee. She's a classified hunter/pee-er.

[ETA] 5 hours after she'd peed in her new beddy, Emily got it back, freshly washed, then dried fluffy on the radiator. She enjoyed it for 5 minutes, after which she prompty peed in it again.

Mommy: OI!

The amazing flying puppy

Evidently, Emily thinks removing her ovaries was meant to make her lighter for air travel.

When we came home, H.'s leftover slice of cake, sitting high up on the kitchen table, was GONE, and a doggy munch left on the rest of the pound cake. We can only assume that Emily learned how to fly.

(or she jumped on the chair, then up on the table, ate the cake, knocked a magazine to the floor, and jumped back down, innocently wagging her tail to greet us in the hall)

[Let her eat Cake]

- well, she'd already gnawed at it, anyway.

- and yes, she's eating pound cake, lying on Mommy's (faux) fur jacket, after she'd had 2 breakfasts already out of her Koryo celadon doggy bowl.

Post Surgery, Day 7

A whole week has gone by since Emily got spayed, and the changes have been unexpected.

First, Emily peed on her two red sofa cushions. Then once on the floor. And did a poo, too. Goodbye perfect potty training.

Second, she's started BARKING at me, very loudly and persistently, to pay attention to her. Bratty Mc Brat.

Third, and she's gotten a lot faster too, running around like a scuttling crab.

Fourth, she flies in the face of authority and leaps up on the sofa and coffee table while I'M IN THE ROOM (instead of sneaking around to do it when I'm not).

All in all, the wishful thinking that she might get calmer: DASHED. Definitely not a slower dog.

Then again, the spaying coincided probably with the onset of puberty.

disgruntled

Emily ate poo. Romped around in the grass carrying other dog's poo in her mouth like a big prize, yeah.

YUCK. no kissies for you, puppo.

On the bright side, the Halti is working wonders. Almost no pulling, snapping, or barking. It seems to work as a "job" collar (in place of a doggy backpack) for her.

TV Star

(Emily's new short cut, ala Daddy)[Who me?]

We left Emily, hanging out in the silent living room, and went out to pick up doggy treats, her address tags, and detergent (for us).

When we came back, making a lot of noise in the process, the dog does NOT rush out to greet us at the door.

Instead, we find her sitting on the sofa, WATCHING TV.

According to Sherlock Mommy, Emily had jumped up on the coffee table (she'd also stolen the nail clippers from the tabletop for her corner stash), stepped on the remote to turn the TV on, and took over Daddy's corner seat.

Mommy was laughing so hard, she missed the exact moment to scold the varmint for jumping up on the sofa. So we let it go.

! Catastrophes !

1. Today

While I was in the bathroom, Emily jumped up on the coffee table and made away with one of the chocolate discs in the silver butter dish.

When I came back she was munching on it in her corner.

CHOCOLATE IS TOXIC TO DOGS (and CATS!).

I've been frantically trying to remember how many discs were in the dish -- dound the other 3 under the sofa later. Turned out she ate 1/3~ 1/2 of a thin chocolate disc.

One ounce of milk chocolate to one pound of body weight is clinically toxic. As Emily is 7 pounds and ate probably 0.1 ounces of milk chocolate, I think we're in the clear.

But man, must be more vigilant. (another white hair for H.)

2. Yesterday

I had to adjust the Halti three times (size 0 is too small for Emily). I'd snipped off mistakes and sewed two more strips together to make it fit her little head. Sitting in the corner of our stairwell, I was distracted, and had left the needle on the steps. 3 hours later, going up the stairs, the needle was waiting for me, and went right through my 2nd toe.

I screamed to bring the house down, but immediately after 1. "ow ow" and 2. "stupid stupid me!" I thought, 3. "thank God it wasn't Emily who stepped on it."

Another white hair.

[Pish, that means I could have finished that nummy with no harm done, Mommy!]

Dilemma

As long as H. can't find the card reader, she can't put the Castle Walk pics on the blog. The longer H. stays away from the blog, the more she just goofs off on Emily!Twitter.

Emily's into mysterious sonic pitch whining. H. has no idea what about. Probably bats.